Speaker for the Dead

quarantined world, Speaker. The amaranth is so well-suited to this environment that it would soon choke out the native grasses. The idea is not to terraform Lusitania. The idea is to have as little impact on this world as possible."
      "That must be hard on the people."
      "Within our enclave, Speaker, we are free and our lives are full. And outside the fence-- no one wants to go there, anyway."
      The tone of her voice was heavy with concealed emotion. Ender knew, then, that the fear of the piggies ran deep.
      "Speaker, I know you're thinking that we're afraid of the piggies. And perhaps some of us are. But the feeling most of us have, most of the time, isn't fear at all. It's hatred. Loathing."
      "You've never seen them."
      "You must know of the two Zenadors who were killed-- I suspect you were originally called to Speak the death of Pipo. But both of them, Pipo and Libo alike, were beloved here. Especially Libo. He was a kind and generous man, and the grief at his death was widespread and genuine. It is hard to conceive of how the piggies could do to him what they did. Dom Cristão, the abbot of the Filhos da Mente de Cristo-- he says that they must lack the moral sense. He says this may mean that they are beasts. Or it may mean that they are unfallen, having not yet eaten of the fruit of the forbidden tree." She smiled tightly. "But that's theology, and so it means nothing to you."
      He did not answer. He was used to the way religious people assumed that their sacred stories must sound absurd to unbelievers. But Ender did not consider himself an unbeliever, and he had a keen sense of the sacredness of many tales. But he could not explain this to Bosquinha. She would have to change her assumptions about him over time. She was suspicious of him, but he believed she could be won; to be a good Mayor, she had to be skilled at seeing people for what they are, not for what they seem.
      He turned the subject. "The Filhos da Mente de Cristo-- my Portuguese isn't strong, but does that mean 'Sons of the Mind of Christ'?"
      "They're a new order, relatively speaking, formed only four hundred years ago under a special dispensation of the Pope--"
      "Oh, I know the Children of the Mind of Christ, Mayor. I Spoke the death of San Angelo on Moctezuma, in the city of Córdoba."
      Her eyes widened. "Then the story is true!"
      "I've heard many versions of the story, Mayor Bosquinha. One tale has it that the devil possessed San Angelo on his deathbed, so he cried out for the unspeakable rites of the pagan Hablador de los Muertos."
      Bosquinha smiled. "That is something like the tale that is whispered. Dom Cristão says it's nonsense, of course."
      "It happens that San Angelo, back before he was sainted, attended my Speaking for a woman that he knew. The fungus in his blood was already killing him. He came to me and said, 'Andrew, they're already telling the most terrible lies about me, saying that I've done miracles and should be sainted. You must help me. You must tell the truth at my death.'"
      "But the miracles have been certified, and he was canonized only ninety years after his death."
      "Yes. Well, that's partly my fault. When I Spoke his death, I attested several of the miracles myself."
      Now she laughed aloud. "A Speaker for the Dead, believing in miracles?"
      "Look at your cathedral hill. How many of those buildings are for the priests, and how many are for the school?"
      Bosquinha understood at once, and glared at him. "The Filhos da Mente de Cristo are obedient to the Bishop."
      "Except that they preserve and teach all knowledge, whether the Bishop approves of it or not."
      "San Angelo may have allowed you to meddle in affairs of the Church. I assure you that Bishop Peregrino will not."
      "I've come to speak a simple death, and I'll abide by the law. I think you'll find I do less harm than you expect, and perhaps more good."
      "If you've come to Speak Pipo's death, Speaker pelos Mortos, then you will do nothing but harm. Leave the piggies behind the wall. If I had my way, no human being would pass through that fence again."
      "I hope there's a room I can rent."
      "We're an unchanging town here, Speaker. Everyone has a house here and there's nowhere else to go-- why would anyone maintain an inn? We can only offer you one of the small plastic dwellings the first colonists put up. It's small, but it has all the amenities."
      "Since I don't need many amenities or much space, I'm